


playing house

by basedfran, basedkhr (basedfran)



Series: Kiddie Squad [5]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, nonbinary fuuta, not that either headcanon is really relevant, one and a half shot, rated T for ONE maybe-swear, trans boy fran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-10-31 10:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basedfran/pseuds/basedfran, https://archiveofourown.org/users/basedfran/pseuds/basedkhr
Summary: “Oh my God.” Tsuna utters, lisping a bit due to his injured tongue. His brows furrow and his lip curls as he tries to comprehend the display set before him. “What the hell are you guys doing?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> havent written anything is a while, so i threw this together so my account doesnt die lol

Though Tsuna practically begs everyday for a peaceful moment to himself, he’s never happy when he receives one.

He’s learned throughout years of body snatching junior high punks and violent babies that make torture a hobby and winged assholes that take over the multiverse to be suspicious. Of what he doesn’t know, so his body is constantly racked with paranoia. And that anxiety tends to peak when the house is still.

When he notices how quiet it is one summer day, the palpitations rattling his chest seem almost audible.

He’s in charge of the house and children today (Nana at a piano recital and Bianchi foraging for summer ingredients), but he’s banished the kids downstairs so he can pretend to be doing his summer work.

They were their usual rowdy selves while he struggled through his history packet. He could clearly hear the sounds of children at play just moments ago. (Lambo’s obnoxious laughter from doing something annoying, the sound of a struggle as I-Pin gets fed up with him and makes use of her training, Fran and Fuuta’s commentary and  _ I-told-you-so. _ ’s when Lambo starts crying.)

But now it’s quiet and, though he yearns for it when it’s gone, he doesn’t trust silence when it’s in his house.

The dull thudding of his heart against his chest floods his ears as he walks down the stairs, skin crawling as he finds all the lights downstairs have been turned off. As he nears the bottom of the staircase he notices a flickering, orange glow coming from the direction of the living room.

_ Fire. _ his intuition screams at him, making his jump past the last couple of steps, smacking his chin against the hardwood when he inevitably lands on his face. A low moan catches in his throat as he tries to pull himself up, barely registering copper flavor filling his mouth. He must have (yet again) bit his tongue when he fell.

Throwing his gaze towards the living room, he’s relieved to find the orange glow is coming off an ornate candelabra sitting on the coffee table, thanking every god he knows that the living room isn’t ablaze.

The relief is replaced by confusion when he has the time to take in the rest of the scene in front of him.

Fran sits on Nana’s favorite chair, his head propped up on his hand as he leans his body against one of the chair’s arms, legs carefully crossed. A black, feather robe is wrapped around his shoulders, billowing around his thin frame and flowing down from the chair to just barely kiss the floor. A silver cigarette holder with a Pocky stick shoved in it is held daintily in his left hand.

In the dim light he appears more sinister than usual, green eyes darker as he regards the form Tsuna just notices piled at the foot of his chair.

Fuuta sits on the floor in front of Fran as if their body had been spilled there, mostly lying on the floor with not enough strength to properly sit. One hand propping their body up, the other pressed to their chest as if to hold their heart still, they stare up at Fran with a look of devastation. They were wearing, quite literally, a large burlap sack with jagged holes cut in it to create arm openings and a neckline.

“Darling.” young voice croaks in what sounds like an attempt to sound gruff, cutting into the quiet and drawing Tsuna’s attention.

Lambo is lounging on the big couch to Fuuta’s right, a fake handlebar mustache pasted above his lip. His curly hair is hidden under a familiar fedora that, for his sake, Tsuna hopes Reborn doesn’t catch him in. He’s wearing a gray blazer that’s much too big on him, his arms lost in the long sleeves. Only his hand, holding an old pipe, is free from the fabric cage.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be so hasty with your words.” Lambo continues pretending to smoke from the pipe. “This is the girl our dearest, only son has fallen in love with, after all.”

Fran doesn’t spare Lambo a glance, gaze burning into Fuuta. “ _ Love? _ ” he scoffs, pulling the cigarette holder to his lips and taking an imaginary puff. “What does love have to do with any of this? We’re looking for a suitable bride for the sole heir to our fortune. This sow isn’t even suitable enough to breathe the same air as our Katsuro.”

“Madam...!” Fuuta sobs, hand gripping their burlap gown as they let out a strangled sob, tears welling in their eyes.

Fran uncrosses his legs and rises to his feet in one smooth, elegant movement. He briefly flicks the “cigarette” in Fuuta’s direction, as if flicking ash onto them, and begins to saunter away. “Remove yourself from my home. Don’t let me see your face again; I will never allow you to marry my son.”

“No! Please!” Fuuta throws themself at Fran’s feet, latching on to one of his ankles. Tears begin to roll down their blotchy, red face as they beg. “ _ Please _ , mother-in-law! Just listen for a moment!

“Do  _ not _ call me that.” Fran yanks his leg out of Fuuta’s grip, taking a single step to the side to put distance between them. “I have yet to consider you a human being, much less my son’s wife.” He flaps his robe, making it flutter dramatically as he sashays a couple steps away. “Away with you, filth. You muddy my vision by being in eyesight.”

“Oh my  _ God _ .” Tsuna utters, lisping a bit due to his injured tongue. His brows furrow and his lip curls as he tries to comprehend the display set before him. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

“We’re playing house!” Fuuta answers in a chipper tone, discarding the act of rejected daughter-in-law and sitting up, prim and proper, on the floor.

“Lambo-san’s the dad!” Lambo adds in his regular speaking voice, pulling the pipe out of his mouth and lifting the fedora off his head as if Tsuna will have trouble recognizing him with them on.

“W-What is this-” Tsuna sputters on his words as he makes vague gestures towards them. “-this...  _ Performance _ ? What is this dark storyline you’re acting out? This isn’t how you play house!”

“It’s how  _ we  _ play.” Fran says, taking another fake drag of his cigarette. He blows imaginary smoke up into the air with a weary sigh. “This way’s funner than how the kids at school play.”

“I-” Tsuna is cut off by the sound of the hallway closet opening.

He turns his head to see I-Pin walk out of the newly opened door. Her hair is slicked back and she has a fake mole drawn on her cheek. She’s wearing a blazer similar to Lambo’s, and she’s swimming in it just like him.

“Mother, Father, I’m home!” she calls, her voice lowered as far as she can get it.

Fuuta quickly throws themself back onto the floor, and she gasps when she sees them. “Darling!” she bellows, rushing over and falling to her knees beside them. She lays her hands gently on their shoulders and inspects them before raising her eyes to give Fran a horrified look. “Mother, what have you done to her?”

“What have  _ I _ done?” Fran asks, looking back at her over his shoulder, completely cavalier. “What have  _ you _ done bringing this boor into our home?”

Tsuna is unmoving as he watches Fran and I-Pin begin to argue back and forth, transfixed by their production. He still doesn’t understand how this can be considered “playing house”, but he may be beginning to understand why his mother is so interested in soap operas.

He pulls his legs into a cross-legged position and settles in for the show.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got inspired by a blog request to write this, so heres a tiny sequel for those who read the first chapter!

Enma finds Tsuna crumpled under the tree in the Sawadas’ backyard, laying face down with his body twisted uncomfortably. His clothes are splattered with dirt and blood, and his hair is tangled with twigs and leaves.

“Tsuna?” Enma asks, heart racing but movements slow. He’s giving his body time to wake up from all this, hoping it’s a dream. “Can you hear me...? Are you... okay?”

For ten solid seconds, Tsuna doesn’t reply, and Enma’s breathing becomes haggard.

And then he lifts his head, face not giving away any indication he might be in pain, his eyes scanning the area before looking up at Enma.

“Where are the kids?” he whispers urgently to Enma, trying to keep his voice and head low.

“Are they hurt too?” Enma’s head starts whipping around, looking for any tiny bodies strewn about.

“Hurt?” Tsuna furrows his eyebrows before a lightbulb goes off in his head. “Oh. Oh! No! Don’t worry, Enma, this is fake blood. I’m not hurt or anything.”

Enma squints at Tsuna’s body. Sure enough, though there’s blood and dirt on his clothes, there aren’t any rips in his clothes or visible injuries marking his skin. He lets out a shaky sigh of relief before giving Tsuna an irritated look. “Pranks like that aren’t funny, Tsuna.”

“Sorry, sorry, but it’s not a prank. I’m playing house with the kids.”

“Playing  _ house _ ?” Enma asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“They have a very unique play style.” Tsuna says with a shrug. “Today they’re playing as a family of detectives. I’m supposed to be the victim and key witness. I just fell out of an airplane without a parachute and I have no idea how I survived.”

The sound of shuffling from the other side of the yard makes Tsuna go limp, his nose smooshing against the dirt as his head drops to the ground.

Fuuta, Fran, Lambo, and I-Pin rush out of the bushes towards the scene of the crime. They’re wearing matching deerstalker caps and baggy inverness capes, each of them in a different color.

Fuuta is the first to get to the body, so they check Tsuna’s pulse. “He’s still alive. Rodrick, get medical assistance.”

Lambo immediately rushes back into the bushes. As Fuuta has I-Pin (Elmera in-game) help them check Tsuna’s wounds, Fran focuses his sharp gaze on Enma, passing the body by to interrogate him. “Who are you? Are you familiar with this man?”

“I’m Joseph.” Enma answers reactively, lying about his identity now instinct after being raised around the mafia. He sees Tsuna give him a quick thumbs up and decides to play along. “I am. I’m his... lover.”

Fran’s eyes narrow. “For a man to see his lover in this condition and be so calm... One might question the health of their relationship.”

Enma blinks before dropping to the ground and crawling over to Tsuna, loud sobs wracking his body. “Oh, my love! Who could have  _ done _ this?” he wails, throwing himself down on the ground beside Tsuna.

Fuuta, who’s still kneeling close by, puts a hand on his shoulder and leans in towards his ear. “Don’t over-act, Enma-nii.” they whisper, before snapping back into character as Lambo arrives with the medical team (a couple Build-A-Bears dressed in scrubs).

“Sheesh.” Enma mutters to Tsuna as Fuuta walks away to discuss the victim’s condition. “They take this seriously, don’t they?”

“Oh, you have  _ no _ idea.” Tsuna replies quietly before the ‘paramedics’ move him onto the sled that’s supposed to represent a stretcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! leave a comment if you can, i really appreciate them!

**Author's Note:**

> [based off](http://basedfran.tumblr.com/post/182884829072/chambergambit-hashtagdion-littlemonarch)


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